


Cuts and Bruises

by Mercurialfan



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Just wanted to beat Jaskier up tbh, Whump, very little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22199161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercurialfan/pseuds/Mercurialfan
Summary: Jaskier has been taken by old enemies of Geralt. The Witcher gets him back. For once, the award for being overly dramatic doesn't go to Jaskier.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 230





	Cuts and Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> If you think a fic of barely 1100 words can fit much of a plot, then please point me in that direction. You won't find it here in any case.

When Geralt finally - _finally_ \- found Jaskier, after almost three weeks of relentless searching, he feared he was too late. The bard was lying on his side, naked back to the entrance Geralt had just stormed through. He hadn’t moved a muscle when the heavy door had slammed open, and not even the cries of the dying men Geralt had left in his wake seemed to rouse him.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked softly, kneeling down by his friend. He touched his hand to the bare skin of his exposed back, carefully avoiding the various cuts and bruises he was covered in. For a moment all he could think was how Jaskier was way too cold for any living human being, but then the bard moaned, curling up even more.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked again, but it seemed Jaskier was fully unconscious and his moan had only been a reaction to the warmth of Geralt’s hand. Geralt looked around him, at the dungeon he had found Jaskier in. There was no furniture whatsoever, not even a wooded bench to lie on, which would explain why Jaskier was lying on the stone floor. There was a bucket in a corner which Geralt didn’t even have to look at to know what it had been used for.

The bard himself was fully naked and covered in bruises, cuts, and even some small burns. There were streaks of blood on the side of his head that Geralt could see, which seemed to have come from a fresh cut above his eyebrow. Geralt carefully turned Jaskier on his back and was relieved to find that at first glance there were no life-threatening injuries. He was, however, quite malnourished and there were some minor cuts on his stomach as well.

With a grunt Geralt stood and made his way to the entrance and the dead and dying men who had guarded their prisoner. They had worn heavy woolen cloaks, and Geralt wasted no time ripping one off the shoulders of a man he had killed by snapping his neck, thus leaving him with a relatively clean garment. Hurrying back, he draped the cloak around Jaskier, and gently lifted him up in a bridal carry. Jaskier didn’t once stir or open his eyes, but he was still breathing so Geralt didn’t waste any time in moving him outside the small fortress he had been kept in.

  


Geralt had just finished reapplying the bandages on Jaskier left calf where a nasty gash had almost become infected, when the bard jolted awake. Where Geralt had been trained to first become aware of your surroundings before opening your eyes, especially if it felt unfamiliar, Jaskier immediately sat up and tried to kick Geralt in the face with his newly bandaged leg.

“Let go of me, you bastard,” Jaskier rasped out, “I’ll kick your teeth in if you touch me again!”

Raising his hands, Geralt backed away, “Jaskier! Jaskier! It’s me, Geralt! Calm down, I’m trying to help you, you’re safe.”

Jaskier was looking around him, eyes wide with panic and his breaths coming in harsh gasps. He was still sitting up, leaning on his arms and his left leg sticking out from under the blankets. Geralt had moved further back in the hope it would make the bard feel less threatened. He couldn’t go very far in the small room in the cheap inn they were in, and to be quite honest, he didn’t really want to.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked with a small voice, “is that you?” Geralt immediately moved closer, lowering his hands and kneeling next to the bed Jaskier was on. Jaskier was looking at him, really seeing him now and not one of the guards who had treated him so badly. Shaking, Jaskier reached out and poked Geralt’s forehead with his index finger.

“You’re really here? You… you came for me?”

Geralt swallowed, nodded. “I’m sorry it took so long, Jaskier,” he said, feeling more guilty than he had ever felt, and that included the time he had somehow acquired a Child Surprise.

Jaskier groaned, and lay back on the bed, his eyes never leaving Geralt. “I will have you know, Witcher, that the next time I get captured by the men of some king you pissed off, I expect a speedier rescue.”

Geralt swallowed, closed his eyes. He knew Jaskier had said it in jest, but what horrors could have been prevented being wreaked upon the bard had he just been a bit faster, a bit smarter about it? If he had only realised quicker that Jaskier had been missing than perhaps this whole nightmare could have been avoided?

He startled when a heavily bandaged hand fell on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Jaskier smiling down at him. “I’m joking! I’ll be fine! Sure they roughed me up a little, and conveniently forgot to give me food most days, but they didn’t break any bones or anything!”

Still kneeling on the floor next to the bed, Geralt shook his head. “This should never have happened. They were looking for me, and they tried to lure me out by capturing you. By the gods, I should have killed them slower!” He all but growled out he last bit, adrenaline coursing through his veins with the thought of what could have happened, what almost did happen had he been but a few days later.

Once again, a hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. “Geralt… You came for me. You didn’t have to, you could have just left. I chose to follow you, but you are by no means obligated to take care of me. I’ve survived angrier men than this. Granted, they were usually only mad at me for sleeping with their wives, but still. Not my first beating, probably won’t be the last. Sure, this went on for a bit longer than I am used to, but you got me out before any permanent damage was done. You’re a good friend, Geralt.”

With a wince, Jaskier pulled back his hand, and cradled it close to his chest. “Now, as you might have noticed, I haven’t eaten in a really long time and I am very hungry. Do you mind...?”

For a moment, all Geralt could do was stare at the man in front of him. Who, as it happened to be, was staring straight back at him, motioning impatiently to the door. “Well?”

Sighing, Geralt stood up, already well on his way to forgetting how worried he’d been just moments ago, and moving rapidly into ‘annoyed’ territory. But fine. If Jaskier wanted food, he was gonna get him all the food he could he could possibly want, and more.

They were friends, after all.


End file.
